Tweek's Super-Secret Public Diary
by Predominantly Normal
Summary: Craig discloses the inner-workings and feelings of Tweek Tweak via a stolen diary. Multiple Pairings.
1. Chapter 1

**I DON'T OWN SOUTH PARK**

**So I've been writing lots of serious stuff so I decided to try and be a little less dramatic and write some harmless little diary entries because sometimes I can't stand how people make Tweek out to be some dependent little girl. **

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_The following text was transcribed as accurately as possible by Craig Tucker and sold to Predominantly Normal for three dollars and fifty cents. All property rights belong to Predominantly Normal, not Tweek Tweak, who has authored the following._

Dear Diary;

Mom bought me this after I said I wanted a journal or something for Christmas. I don't want to be ungrateful or anything, but it sort of hurts me to legitimately write in this. I mean, I know I'm not the manliest guy, but that doesn't mean it's right to buy me a '_Sweet Secrets_' diary with a pink cover and unicorns on it.

I mean, come on.

I really wanted the journal with graphics of Terrence and Philip on it, but you know, just give me the diary that belongs to a seven-year old girl. I feel so effeminate, I think I'm gonna have to beat someone up to earn my man card. I'd never do that though! Seriously, they should just buy me a skirt and be done with it. I wonder if any other boys my age have to deal with this garbage. Probably not. I never hear Stan or Craig whining about their parents giving them pink stuff or cutting the crusts off their sandwiches, or setting their clothes out every morning.

It's not even necessary to put out my clothes. I only have green button-ups and six of the same jeans. Einstein only wore one outfit all the time, so why can't I? Probably because I'm not a genius. Damn, what I'd do if I was smart like Wendy or Kyle. Actually, I'd probably waste my brain power reading magazines or something.

Anyways, the whole school's been real riled up after they began to realize that Wendy was a pretty nice-looking girl. I won't lie, she is pretty cute. Damn, thank god nobody's going to read this. That's the good thing about diaries; they're secret places where you can just vent, and they never laugh at you when you write down your feelings or anything. So I think I'll vent right now.

I have a huge crush on Wendy Testaburger, and I don't give a shit that she has a boyfriend!

Whew, that felt nice. I was looking over my shoulder the whole time I wrote that down though, and I'm sweating like crazy now. Maybe that's just the adrenaline rush? Maybe diary writing should be a sport, because I'm bright red and sweating more that LeBron James after a basketball game.

But really though. I've been noticing a lot about people from the school that I haven't noticed before. Like how Stan's legs have gotten a little longer, and how Heidi has bigger eyes, or how Craig's nose has gotten a little smaller (Gah! Is that possible?), or how Timmy looks pretty handsome without his wheelchair. I think I'm the only ugly one left at South Park elementary! God, that sucks! My hair's kind of messy, and my eyes are all bloodshot all the time and my nose is crooked and I think I've gained a few pounds and_ oh god_!

I think I'm gonna have to wear a paper bag around school now because of how ugly I am! My face will burn people's retinas! Oh man, do I have something to yell to God about when I go to church on Sunday. I'm like one of those weird abstract art things by Pablo Picasso, except they look more handsome. At least that's what Craig said when he figured out that I didn't have any photos of me from this month when everyone suddenly became hot.

Sometimes I can't tell whether I'm best friends with Craig Tucker, or mortal enemies. He's so confusing, man. Like on Christmas. I gave him a shirt of this band he likes and he went and called me a fag! I'm not a fag! Really! He also got really red, and I figured he was pissed at me so I bolted right out of there and I'm still scared to talk to him.

So recently I've been hanging around Stan's gang. It's pretty cool, I guess. Except just last week we got deported into China, and I can't understand a single thing from there! And everyone has those weird squinty eyes like they're planning something. I wonder if they have the plans to take over the world tattooed on the insides of their eyelids? Cartman said they do. And he's a real smart guy, so I think I'll take his word for it.

Actually, me and Cartman- sorry, _Cartman and I_ (We've been working on grammar a lot in class) have become sort of good friends lately. He knows so much more about the world than me. Like before we became friends, I had no idea that Jews could perform witchcraft, or that Stan and Kyle were 'butt-buddies'. And that's wrong! I mean, not them being gay! I'm talking about Stan cheating on Wendy! A pretty girl like her doesn't deserve him.

And that sucks, because if she doesn't deserve Stan she really doesn't deserve me.

Also, I've been noticing that in photos, Cartman looks really slim, too. He's really photogenic. I'm jealous, to be honest. The flash always catches my eyes and makes me look like a hellspawn. Why can't I look nice like everyone else, huh? It's just so unfair.

Butters has been real in the dumps lately since his crush choose another guy (Clyde), so being the awesome friend I am, I offered him some free coffee and pastries. And you know what he did? He looked me right in the eye, and he said; "Well g-gee, Tweek, that's nice and everything, but I don't swing that way."

Why does everyone think I'm gay! I mean sure, I always smell nice and I swing my hip when I walk, and my second favorite color is pink and... Oh god, maybe I am gay! That's just way too much pressure. I asked Kenny about it right after Butters accused me of being gay, and you know what Kenny said? He told me to watch _porn_! He said that if I got 'turned on' by guys doing it then I was gay. But that's sick, man! I mean, who watches people having sex! That's private stuff! I asked him if maybe I was a little young for that stuff, but he just cackled and said, "Naw, man! We're basically adults already, you pansy".

But I don't think twelve years old counts as an adult age. Kenny also said I could try kissing some guys, but I've never even kissed a girl yet! If I end up turning out straight, I don't want my first kiss to be from a guy. I remember Craig and Cartman were going around a little while ago looking for kids that hadn't kissed anyone and they beat them up. Craig saved me that day. He said that I kissed Red, and she went right along with it. I felt really bad for Butters, but he ended up getting a whole bunch of girls, so I didn't feel _too_ bad.

So anyways, Wendy talked to me yesterday and I think I might've blew my cool just a little bit. I went really red in the face and screamed and raced out of the classroom and hid in my locker for the rest of the day. I mean, she asked to borrow a pen from me! That's huge stuff, man. Wait, what if that means she wants to become girlfriend and boyfriend? What if we get married and have kids and she leaves me? What if she doesn't pay the child support? I'll have to remind her next time I see her. She needs to pay her own god dammed child support.

... So I just read my last paragraph and I realized how stupid it sounded. But you know what? I'm gonna leave it there because I think erasing stuff out of a journal is wrong, man. Because that's what I felt at the time, and these things are for feelings, right? My feelings. People think girls are the only ones with feelings, but you know what? That's not true at all. I have tons of feelings. You can see 'em right now. On this paper.

Craig's kind of weird, because ever since he got obsessed with his computer he's been calling his feelings the 'Feels'. I'm also starting to think he's secretly a pirate, because he talks about all his 'Ships' and 'Headcannons'. I sure hope he isn't a pirate. I don't know too much about pirates, except that they're bad and they smell awful.

As of late though, Craig's getting really concerning. He's been really emotional lately, and he's been talking all about his style and his creeks and his K2. I've been Craig's friend sine third grade, and I know for a fact he's about as stylish as a wet mop, and he never goes outside, not even to mention to any creeks, and I really hope he's not doing drugs. Actually, come to think about it, he's only been this way after Kyle showed him something on the computer.

Jewish witchcraft! I knew it! I'm going to have to tell Cartman right away! And then I'm going to have a serious talking-to with Kyle. I'll be back soon, but for now, Tweek Tweak is signing out. God that sounds stupid. I'm going to need to find some sort of end-catchphrase...


	2. Chapter 2

**I DO NOT OWN SOUTH PARK**

**This is fun as hell.**

**DeathNSpikes- I assure you, they would check out some creeks, but Tweek would have an annurism.**

**Style Marshlovski- Craig's like a ninja. Stealthy and mysterious. Except he's stupider. **

**Guest- Creek galore! I love Creek. Although this could just as easily be one-sided. **

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_The following text was transcribed as accurately as possible by Craig Tucker and sold to Predominantly Normal for four dollars and eight cents. All property rights belong to Predominantly Normal, not Tweek Tweak, who has authored the following._

__Dear diary,

Apparently, Kyle isn't doing Jewish witchcraft on Craig. I went straight to Cartman's like I said I would, but he just pushed me out the door and yelled at me. It might've been due to me finding his secret closet full of Kyle. If you walk into his house and turn to the right to the closet, that's where his shrine is. There are pictures of Kyle and stupid trinkets like Kyle's old balled up homework, or a candy wrapper he's had from the third grade. I think it's kind of creepy.

So anyways that left me to face Kyle alone. I went to his house and knocked on the door with both my hands. And when Kyle opened the door, I punched him real hard in the face and tackled him to the floor.

Well what was I supposed to do? I thought he had corrupted Craig!

I leaned in real close to Kyle's face and snarled, pinning his wrists to the ground. He was kicking, so I had to straddle him and hold his legs with my ankles. Kyle thrashed, but I think the extra pounds I put on helped me hold him down.

"What did you do to Craig!" I demanded, squeezing his wrists threateningly. Kyle spit in my eye, and I didn't have my arms or legs or anything, so I had to bite him. Kyle fought really hard to get me off him right then, but I didn't relent. "Tell me, sorcerer!"

"Nothing! Did you get this from Cartman? He's a fucking liar, Tweek, don't believe anything he says!" Kyle snapped back. I was about to respond with something really sharp and witty, but before I could say anything, I heard a bottle drop to the floor. Ike stood at the staircase, his sippy cup laying on the ground.

"Gayyyy!" He shouted, running up the stairs like a madman.

I did what any reasonable twelve year old would do. I carefully picked myself up, screamed, then ran out the door.

Anyways, Craig had invited me to his house for a sleepover. Usually, sleepovers consisted of just me and Craig, but Clyde had got wind of it, and he invited himself, Token, Kevin, and BeBe. Which was totally gross. I mean, who invites _girls_ to sleepovers? They have like, germs! Most of them, anyways.

We did usual sleepover things, watched movies, ate, you know, trying to avoid the fact that there was a female entity within us. Eventually, Clyde suggested we played hide n' seek, and we were all racing to find a good hiding spot. Craig grabbed my hand and dragged me away to some hole in the staircase. It was hidden by a bunch of coats and stuff, and it was really tight in there, so I ended up having to sort of hug it out with Craig in there. I hoped that I wasn't _too_ heavy, because I had to practically lay on top of him.

"If Token finds us, we'll both be out!" I whimpered in dismay. It was pretty obvious to me that if you hid with two people your chances of staying hidden was less.

"Nah. Besides, Clyde and BeBe are probably making out in the closet." Craig said. "I hide here a lot. I know they won't find us." I looked at him oddly for a moment, but he just wrapped his arms around my back (Presumably to keep us better hidden) and closed his eyes. I thought he was dead for a moment, but he drummed his fingertips on my back to remind me he was still alive.

After awhile, the stuffy crawlspace and Craig's rhythmic drumming got to me and I began to nod off. I guess Craig thought I was sleeping, because he began talking as if I weren't there.

"Y'know, I love hiding here. Makes me feel safe, y'know?" He ran his fingers through my hair and I shivered. By then, it was starting to get pretty awkward and uncomfortable. "I like having you here too. I know you can't hear me or anything, but I guess it'd be nice if you had some subconsious of this. You make me feel safe, too." He said, and I had half a mind to bolt right then and there. This was so much pressure.

I didn't want to sleep, because I was afraid Craig was going to start molesting me or something. But eventually he stopped and I felt more comfortable. I eventually dozed off.

Clyde found us by the morning, and he looked so proud of himself. "Hey, have fun?" He had said, and my eyes shot open. Craig grumbled something along the lines of, "Leave me to sleep."

"Damn!" Token said, helping me out of the crawlspace. I was sore and stiff, but Craig looked fine. "You two were in there all night?"

"It's comfy." Craig snapped, looking grouchy that he was woken up.

"What time is it?" I asked. BeBe grinned and told me that it was nearly ten and I screamed. I never stayed asleep that late! It took her three minutes to convince me she wasn't an evil witch. I don't agree with her methods, though. She pet me like a dog, and tried to see if she could get my leg to twitch if she scratched my stomach just right. It was beyond humiliating when it worked. It sucked even more that it felt really nice, and I wanted her to keep scratching.

"More!" I yipped, trying not to look at Clyde and Token, who were litterally rolling on the floor laughing. I felt stupider than I had in a long time, and even Craig had a smirk on his face.

"Save it for Craig," BeBe laughed, stopping her awesome scratching. I screamed. What was that supposed to mean! I still don't know. It's like she was playing mind games with my head.

"Aw, babe, but he's so cute when he's like that. Can we adopt him as our family dog?" Clyde had laughed.

Ever since then, all the girls at our school have been treating me like some adorable puppy. It's sort of embarrassing and flattering at the same time. They corner me at recess and do that weird scratchy thingy, and I swear, I should start charging them because they're obsessed with it! Craig tried to fend them off, but they're like ravenous wolves and they plowed him over and left him with a black eye and a sprained writst.

Wendy's not really into it. She calls it 'terrorizing'. Shame, though, because I'd really love it if _she_ scratched me like that instead of all the other girls. Red and BeBe figured that if I acted like a dog, then I should have all the same sweet spots as a dog. Maybe I'm just paranoid, but I think Craig tipped them off! I seen him talking to them right before they started 'expirementing' on me.

And apparently, I crane my neck if you scratch it, arch my back if you rub it, and most humiliatingly, I raise my butt like a cat if you pet it. Honestly, they should just strap a collar on me and be done with it. I've faked sick all this week, and my mom is going to notice that her face cream is diminishing eventually.

So Cartman came over a day ago and went up to me and offered to help me earn money. Apparently, he's figured out that everyone's going insane over petting me like a dog, so he's going to sell petting times to girls. I smacked him in the face open palmed, and it left a red mark on his cheek. I regret it a lot now. Because it wasn't as hard as I could've hit him.

I told Cartman to fuck off and that I wasn't going to become his prostitute, and he flipped me off and told me that I was a flaming homo. He said he'd be dying for that kind of affection, and I had to show him the red rashes that had just started dissapearing all over my body from their pawing and groping. Cartman left pretty quickly after I showed him the marks on my butt.

So that's been my week. I also think Craig's been stalking me. Last time I seen my diary, it wasn't the same way I had put it.

So Tweek Tweak, out. (Damn it, that doesn't sound cool either.)


	3. Chapter 3

_The following text was transcribed as accurately as possible by Craig Tucker and sold to Predominantly Normal for no charge, due to Craig being a greedy little asshole and initially charging ten-thousand dollars. All property rights belong to Predominantly Normal, not Tweek Tweak, who has authored the following._

Dear Diary;

Guess what? I figured out why everyone's suddenly become so attractive lately! It's a computer software called photoshop and you can use it to make yourself look pretty!

So during lunch, I was in the computer room trying to figure out how to work it. I didn't really get that far, but I did manage to create a picture of Craig with huge (Like, larger than his whole body) boobs. I thought it was really funny, so for a while I just sat there laughing. I guess Wendy overheard me. She hasn't been really popular since the whole issue with her calling Kim Kardashian a hobbit. Even though she has a photoshop of herself.

She came in and she looked at Craig's picture for one second, and you know what she did? She clambered up to my computer, and sent a mass email to everyone in the whole city! And she said that it was really funny, so we spent the whole of recess making weird photoshops of everyone and putting them online. We gave Stan an extra pair of arms, Kyle got huge eyebrows, Cartman got even fatter, and Butters got turned into an asshole with eyes.

I asked Wendy to make a legitimate photoshop of me, because I don't need Craig going around and telling me he'd kindly smash my face into a door and make it look nicer. And she just looked at me and smiled, and she said, "You don't need that junk. You're too adorable."

She called me _adorable_! Like, that's a synonym for cute, right? _Right_?! I think I played it off pretty well. I screamed and ripped out a big chunk of hair and now my head stings, but it was worth it because she said I was adorable! And she didn't even laugh at me when I causually threw my hair in the garbage. She even offered to buzz the rest of my head because I look kind of ridiculous. But I declined. This bald spot will forever remind me that Wendy called me adorable.

It wasn't so great after I left the computer room, though. I guess some rumor got out that I was making out with Wendy in the computer room (Ha! I wish.), so an hour or so later, Stan beat me up and shackled me to the flagpole. He got the whole class to pepper me with garbage, so I smell kind of bad, too. I think Craig threw a pair of the gym coach's dirty underpants in my face, and then everyone called me, "Underpants Boy" and "Skid Marks". Gah! I hate when they team up on you like that!

I sat at the flagpole, tied up with underpants on my face for a good few hours until Kenny undid the ties. He told me that they needed me, and that I had to meet them up at my parent's coffee shop in twenty. And he said if I didn't go, he was gonna drug me and take pictures of me in his sister's dresses and post them online! What a sick bastard!

So I met Stan's gang and they begged me to steal money from the register. Apparently, they want a new videogame but their parents won't buy it for them. I'm not on great terms with Stan's gang at all lately, but the baseball bats, stapleguns, and hot glue was enough for me to comply. And they still beat me up afterwards! I still have the bruises, and I think I'm gonna die or something because of my injuries! Gah, I hope they feel bad when I'm dead and gone!

So anyways, I guess mom found out I like Wendy, because she's been nothing but sour lately. She keeps telling me I ruined her 'OTP', and that she wishes I'd just kiss that 'Glorious Chullo-clad Raven". I don't think I understand my mom. I mean, it's like she's speaking in code for god's sake! What the hell is an OTP? And she keeps talking about all te things that Craig does; ships and headcannons. I think mom and Craig are in cahoots!

Anyways, I finally got a job! Well, it's not the typical office thing; more like a nightly renissance mission. A few days ago, the gnomes came into my room, and I was sitting in front of my dresser. So this little one goes, "Move, pussy!" and I refused, so he kicked my shins really hard. I think I punched him, though, so we're even. But that's not important. What is important is that I convinced the gnomes that if I stole underpants for them, they'd leave me the fuck alone.

And they agreed!

So every night when I should be showering, I slip out of the house and go to Craig's to steal underpants. He's been a huge asshole to me lately, so this is sort of my payback. And guess what! I think he got a job too, because he has a buisness folder and a jar of crumpled up singles. And, under all of his boxers, he a bright neon green bikini! I think he really is a catamite! I thought he was just spouting crap back when we all went metro, but apparently not.

I also steal Stan's underwear, Kyle's underwear, and Cartman's underwear. I've yet to get to Kenny, and Butter's window is barred shut. I don't think I'll be able to sneak into Stan's anyways, though. He's getting suspicious.

And since I steal underpants when I should be showering, I really smell awful. Mom's noticed, but she's brushing it off as puberty. Dad isn't buying into it, though. He was a boy once, so I think he gets me though.

Smell you later! (God, that's so fucking lame!)

-Tweek Tweak


End file.
